


Like Sands Through the Hourglass

by jeeno2



Series: Sands [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, F/M, Fanfiction, Large Cock, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Smut, Virgin Ben Solo, inappropriate use of fruit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: Someone is anonymously posting smutty Reylo fanfiction on the First Order's intranet.Everyone is reading it.Kylo Ren finds it.It goes about how you'd expect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to crossingwinter, ohwise1ne, and JenfysNest for shrieking with me about this idea these past two weeks and helping make this the ridiculous thing it currently is. 
> 
> You guys.... I don't even know. And I am so, so sorry.

Everything starts to go sideways the morning after the First Order’s victory at Castilon.

At first, Kylo Ren doesn’t realize anything is different. All he knows is he is bone-weary from the long night he just spent waiting for news from the front, and that right now he desperately wishes he were anywhere but here. He grips his lukewarm mug of terrible caf like a lifeline in both hands and takes his seat at the head of the conference room table.

The debriefing is about to start. Exhausted or not, as Supreme Leader, he must preside.  

After what feels like far too long, Hux eventually files into the room, followed in quick succession by Mitaka, Phasma, and the others. They look at least as tired as he feels. The men and women of the First Order get out their datapads, one by one, and set them on the table in front of them, grumbling to one another, all of them seemingly too exhausted to feel any joy in their recent victory.

When the number of people in the conference room reaches a critical mass, Kylo Ren pushes back from his chair and stands, arms folded importantly across his broad chest.

“Congratulations,” he says, hoping his voice conveys a commanding strength he does not, in this moment, actually feel. He’s too tired for strength right now. He just wants to sleep, completely undisturbed, for a week. “The victory we just achieved will prove a decisive blow to the Resistance. It will bring us one step closer to achieving our ultimate goal: complete dominion over the galaxy.”

He takes another swallow of his caf, willing it to wake him up enough to get through this meeting. He must convey confidence. Power. The entire First Order—the entire _galaxy_ —depends on him now.

He pauses, then, waiting for a response to what he just said. For an obsequious compliment from Mitaka, or a thinly-veiled sneer from Hux. But no one says a word. Their eyes are still glued to their datapads, not on him. As though he hadn’t just said anything at all. Like he is not their Supreme Leader, and their screens contain answers to all the most important questions in the galaxy.

Kylo Ren pinches the bridge of his nose in impatient annoyance. Yes, they’re all exhausted; it was a protracted battle and a terribly long night. He knows all that. But the _least_ these people can do is give him their undivided attention for ten kriffing minutes before going back to surfing the intraweb.

This won’t do at all. Has he not _earned_ their attention and their respect?

“Hux!” he barks. The pale man jumps in his seat, sudden and jerky. Kylo Ren would find it amusing if he weren’t so tired. Everyone else’s eyes snap to him, their Supreme Leader—looking nervous and more than a little fearful, like they’ve just been caught doing something they know they shouldn’t have.

 _Good_ , Kylo thinks. _Finally._

“Y-yes, Supreme Leader?” Hux’s voice is a higher pitch than usual.

“The statistics on Castilon, Hux,” Kylo says, very slowly. He allows his voice to convey all the irritation and impatience he feels in this moment. It’s an effective strategy on Hux, most of the time. It makes him jumpy. Eager to please. “Present them to us now, _if you would be so kind_.”

At that, Hux sits up straighter in his chair. “Of… of course, Supreme Leader.”  He stands and quickly moves to the front of the room, datapad in hand. “I have all the data right here.”

Kylo turns his back on the room to watch Hux as he goes through the numbers from last night: the number of casualties on both sides; which ships were destroyed, and which ships will need to be repaired in the weeks to come.

As Hux speaks and Kylo watches him, hushed whispers fill the room behind him. People are murmuring things like “ _it updated this morning, thank the Maker”_ and “ _kriffing_ finally _”_ to one another. None of it really makes sense to Kylo—but then again, Kylo has never spent much time trying to understand the nonsense things other people say.

He decides to pay it no mind, focusing instead on what Hux is telling him.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day proceeds in a similarly odd fashion. Everyone seems beyond distracted, paying so little attention to what is happening around them a person would almost think they’d forgotten what an _honor_ it is to be serving in the First Order.

The afternoon tea with the Anoat delegation is a near disaster, with the servers so engrossed in whatever they’re looking at on their datapads one of them almost walks right into a wall while serving, and another almost pours a potful of hot water right on Lady Anoat’s flowered pink hat instead of into her teacup.

“That girl has _got_ to stop playing him,” Kylo hears one of the busboys mutter quietly to a serving girl as they pass each other, during a lull in the table’s conversation. “Have you gotten to the end yet? That _cliffhanger!_ ”

“ _No,_ ” the girl hisses back. She reaches past Kylo and quickly refills his water glass with alarmingly shaky hands. She gives Kylo a quick, anxious nod, before turning back to the busboy. She adds, in a loud whisper: “And stop talking about it, okay? I can’t read until tonight and I don’t want spoilers.”

Kylo shakes his head, feeling a tension headache coming on.

“More lamb, Lady Anoat?” he asks politely.

But Lady Anoat is looking at _her_ datapad now, too, and doesn’t hear him.

 

* * *

 

It isn’t until that evening, when Kylo is back in his chambers, reclining comfortably in his bed with his datapad on his lap, that he finally understands what is happening.

The First Order’s intranet is, under normal circumstances, faster than any other network the galaxy has ever known. Under _normal_ circumstances, a mere flick of his fingertips across the screen and Kylo can access any information he desires, from any system in the galaxy, almost instantaneously.

Tonight, however, the pages Kylo is searching for—a digest summarizing the day’s news from the Outer Rim, and three important confidential communiques from his spy network on Coruscant—are loading more slowly than molasses on Hoth.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. He cannot possibly rule this galaxy without reliable access to the intranet. He turns to his black, spindly serving droid, who also happens to have a very close working relationship with the computer systems on this ship, and says: “R3-S5! Why is the intranet moving so slowly right now?”

A short pause. “‘ _Like Sands Through the Hourglass,’”_ the droid intones cryptically, from where he stands on the far side of Kylo’s chambers.

Kylo blinks. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Another short pause. “ _You don’t know?”_

“If I knew, would I be asking you?”

“ _No, Supreme Leader,”_ the droid says, very quickly _. “Of course not, Supreme Leader. I just... assumed you knew. Because_ everyone _knows about ‘Like Sands Through the Hourglass.’”_

Kylo closes his eyes and counts, very slowly, to ten. It took seven attempts for the First Order to finally find a serving droid that suited him. If he destroys this one in a fit of rage now, Maker only knows how long it will take them to find him another.

“R3-S5,” he says again, very slowly, modulating his voice. “Could you _please_ explain to me what the hell you’re talking about?”

His droid is not capable of rolling his eyes. Such emotional reactions are not a part of its programming. If it _could_ roll its eyes, though, Kylo Ren is pretty certain it would be doing so right now.

_“‘Like Sands Through the Hourglass’ is a… story.”_

Kylo blinks at it. “A story,” he repeats.

_“Yes, Supreme Leader.”_

“And… this story is….?”

 _“It updated this morning, Supreme Leader.”_ A pause. “ _According to the ship’s central computer, record numbers of users are on Channel Three tonight, reading it. That’s what’s causing the entire network to grind to a halt._ ”

“I see,” Kylo says. He strokes his chin thoughtfully. “I want you to show me this story, R3-S5.”

The droid blinks at him. “ _Are you quite certain you want to see it, Supreme Leader?”_ Another pause. “ _I don’t know if this is the wisest idea.”_

Kylo narrows his eyes at the droid. If the entire First Order has taken leave of its senses over a _story_ , it’s his job as Supreme Leader to have full understanding of what it is. He must read it, and understand it. Then, and only then, will he know how best to proceed.

“Very certain, yes,” he says, dryly. “Show me. Now.”

The droid shakes his head. Is it… _blushing?_ No; that’s impossible.

“ _Very well, sir,”_ it says. It taps somewhat reluctantly on Kylo Ren’s datapad three times, and then--

And then, Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the galaxy, chokes on his tongue.

 

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**LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS**

**Rating** : E

 **Author** : TheUltimateGinger

 _A/n: I am so sorry for the long delay between updates, everyone! Work has been beastly as of late, as I am sure you can understand. I appreciate your patience. As always, thank you so much to my beta, NotMitaka, for their very helpful last-minute spell checks and critiques. Thank you also to FN-1398 for the incredible fanart they made of this story (which you can find_ _here_ _). It’s gorgeous and I cannot stop staring at it._

_Please be sure to leave a comment! Feedback fuels the muse._

  
\------

**_Chapter 23_ **

_The scavenger sat on the bed, her breasts heaving in her chest as the Supreme Leader eyed her curiously._

_Both of them were completely, totally naked. At last. At long, long last._

_“You need a teacher,” the Supreme Leader said, dark and crooningly. His large hand started to stroke his ten-inch monster dong, already super hard and stiff between his legs._

_It was purple-headed_ — _and it looked angry with her. The scavenger’s eyes grew wider at the very sight of it. At the thought of what it would feel like between her own legs._

 _“You need a teacher…” Kylo Ren repeated, moving closer to where she sat perched on the bed. His dong looked even bigger up close. It was the biggest, hardest thing Rey had ever seen. Bigger than that traitor Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber. Bigger than_ anyone _’s lightsaber. “Someone who will teach you how to suck my cock.”_

_“Yes,” the scavenger said. She licked her pink lips. Eyed him up and down. “Yes, Daddy.”_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Kylo slams his datapad shut with a hoarse cry and flings it away from him as hard as he can. It clatters noisily to the floor—it’s probably broken now; wouldn’t be the first time—but right now he does not care.

Who the _hell_ is writing this monstrosity?

And... _why_?

He has never, not ever, done any of these sorts of thing with Rey, or _said_ any of these sorts of things to her. This story is a travesty. A _travesty._ It is entirely, completely, and totally fabricated, every last bit of it. To his knowledge, Rey has never called him _Daddy_ , in any setting. _(_ And, Maker—why would she? Whatever they may be to each other, he knows with certainty he is not her _father_.) They have never been naked in the same room at the same time, ever. He has never once seen her bare breasts.

And, while it has admittedly been some time since Kylo last checked, he is almost positive his cock is not ten inches long.

Either way, what he and Rey do or don’t do with each other is their own private business. It is not fair game for speculation or public consumption. Not now. Not _ever._

“ _I did warn you, sir_ ,” his droid reminds him.

“Shut up,” Kylo snaps.

Stunned, and fuming, he gingerly picks his datapad up off the floor. The screen isn’t even cracked, fortunately. First Order’s tech support learned long ago to only give him datapad screens with thick protective glass. Apparently this time it did the trick.

As Kylo turns the device over and over in his hands, he debates what to do next. He’s tempted to get on the intercom right now and demand that whoever this _TheUltimateGinger_ person is turn himself in at once for punishment.

He eventually dismisses that idea as premature.

Kylo has only read a short snippet of what seems to be a very lengthy work. That was Chapter 23, after all. If what he has seen today of the men and women of the First Order is any indication, this…. this… _filth_ has had everyone in its thrall for quite some time.

Before he metes out punishment he should read the rest of the story. Just so he’ll have more data to consider when deciding on appropriate retribution.

His mind made up, Kylo sits back down on his bed and props himself up against the headboard. Flexing his wrists, he opens his datapad again, and finds where he left off in Chapter 23. He’ll go back and read the whole story from the beginning, but not just yet.

Kylo’s cock twitches in anticipation—only once, but _hard_ —inside his pants, for reasons he does not understand.

(His cock is big, to be sure; he never said it wasn’t _big_ . But he’s almost positive it isn’t ten inches long. Maybe he should double-check, just to be certain? Would Rey like it if it were ten inches long? Not that he cares what Rey thinks about his cock, of course. Because he _doesn’t_.)

Kylo adjusts himself absentmindedly ( _oh_ , he thinks; _that feels nice_...) and begins to read.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_At his words, Rey spread her legs for him. The pink lips of her vingina spread out in all directions from her center, like a Sarlacc getting ready for a large meal._

_The Supreme Leader studied her as if she were a star chart and he an intergalactic explorer preparing for first contact._

_“You have done well to ready yourself for me, Scavenger,” he told her. He pushed her legs further part with his big hands, until there was enough space between them for him to fit. He knelled between her really long legs and stuck a finger inside her. Then he stuck a second finger inside her. He didn’t even take his glove off first so it felt really, really good. The scavenger moaned and wriggled around on the bed._

_“And now I’m going to fuck you,” the Supreme Leader said. “Hard. Right in there. With my huge dong.”_

_“Yes. Please.” The scavenger Rey opened herself even wider for him. Bigger than even an enormous Sarlacc pit. She was so wet by now the Supreme Leader couldn’t believe his eyes. “Do it now. With your huge dong.”_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

_"Will you be needing anything else, sir?”_

Kylo jumps.

He looks down at himself, and sees that his right hand has attached itself firmly to the front of his pants. He squeezes himself, just once, and he groans a little, his eyes fluttering closed of their own accord.

He’d forgotten his droid was still here.

“No,” Kylo squeaks. He cringes inwardly. “No,” he says again, more authoritatively. “That will be all.”

The droid hurries out of the room, more quickly than Kylo has ever seen it move in its life.

Kylo buries his head in his hands and moans—because he knows now, with a certainty, that he’s got a _huge_ fucking problem on his hands.

Punishment. Long, hard, painful punishment for anyone and everyone involved in publishing this abomination, and for wasting precious First Order resources in order to do so.

But first, he needs to go back to the beginning to see if there’s anything else they got wrong.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I increased the chapter count on this because that's just how I do things apparently.

“With all due respect, General Organa,” Poe Dameron says, “We should take advantage of the First Order’s intranet slowdown immediately. If we _ever_ want to hack into their systems, now’s the time.”

Rey is sitting on a hard wooden bench outside the Resistance briefing room, only half-listening as Poe Dameron and General Organa argue with each other. Rey is tinkering with a rusted-out subspace receiver the Resistance needs fixed immediately if they want to live to fight another day. The thing in such bad shape that Rey _really_ needs to give it her full attention. But the voices in the next room are rising in pitch now—which is a common enough thing when General Organa and Poe argue. No matter how hard she tries she can’t tune them out completely.

“What I don’t understand is what’s _causing_ this slowdown?” General Organa’s voice has taken on that unmistakable gravel-on-steel edge that means her patience is wearing thin. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. How do we know it isn’t a trap?”

“Just… just trust me on this, General. Okay?” Poe sounds nervous, agitated in a way Rey’s not accustomed to from him. Usually, Poe is smooth as silk. Her ears perk up in spite of herself, making focusing on the task in front of her even harder. “It’s… um. It’s not a trap. I promise.”

“Then what _is_ causing it?” Rey can hear Leia’s rapid footfalls as she starts pacing the room. “Is it some kind of computer virus? You better let me see what you’ve pulled up on that monitor, Dameron—”

“Leia, _no_!” There’s the unmistakable sound of computer equipment crashing to the ground and glass shattering everywhere.

Rey’s cranes her neck, trying to see into the room behind her. What the hell is going _on_ in there?

Leia starts shouting at Poe again, using words Rey has _never_ heard her say—and then—

And then, without warning, the Force bond she shares with Kylo Ren flares to life and her surroundings disappear.

 

* * *

 

To Rey’s great frustration, she still has no more control over when her unpredictable bond with Kylo Ren opens than she did that first time, when he appeared out of nowhere and everything changed.

She rarely has much warning before it happens, either.

Occasionally, there’s a brief flicker of something she can’t quite describe at the very edge of her consciousness a half-moment before the room she’s in vanishes and she’s standing face to face with the man who still, despite all the complicated lies she tells herself, haunts her dreams.

This time, though, there is no warning at all. One minute she is sitting on the bench at the Resistance base, trying to fix the receiver and ignore Poe and Leia—and the next minute she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of Kylo Ren’s posh quarters, light years away from base.

When she looks up, and she sees what he’s doing, her mouth drops open in shock.

Kylo Ren’s back is to her, and his fitted leather pants are pulled halfway down his legs, exposing his toned, pale, bare ass to the room. In one of his large, gloved hands he’s clutching something that looks a lot like an old wooden ruler.

And in the other hand, he’s clutching…

Rey makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Is he... _measuring_ himself?

“ _Ben_?”

At the sound of her voice, Kylo jumps like he’s just been electrocuted. He flings the wooden ruler away from himself with so much force it leaves a mark when it hits the opposite wall.

“Rey! Oh, _fuck._ ” Kylo scrambles to cover himself and pull up his pants. But his cock is absolutely _enormous_ (Rey tries not to look, she _swears_ she tries not to look), and it juts out from his body at an almost comical angle. He also seems to be sweating a great deal for some reason. And his hands are shaking. So it takes him a ridiculously, embarrassingly long time to stuff himself back into his clothes.

Rey averts her eyes—she can’t look at him while he’s half-naked, doing this; she _can’t_ —as her face slowly goes the color of a ripe tomato.

“Let me know when you’re…” Rey swallows. She closes her eyes as she tries, and fails, not to think back to that time she’d seen him without a shirt. He’d been all pale skin and unexpectedly muscled chest; she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for days. “Decent.”

A long pause. Some odd shuffling noises from the other side of the room.

“All right,” Kylo eventually says, his voice strangely hoarse. “You can… um.” Another pause. “You can open your eyes.”

“Are you sure?”

Kylo lets out a huff of frustration. “Rey.”

Tentatively, she opens her eyes. Kylo is sitting at his desk now, his spine ramrod straight. On his lap he’s got a large, fluffy pillow. He’s holding it so tightly it’s like his life depends on it staying right where it is.

“What were you doing just now?” she asks. “Or, rather… _why_ were you…”

Kylo buries his face in his hands. “Can you just… forget about it? Please?”

Before Rey can answer him, a large, black, spindly droid walks into Kylo’s chambers. It goes up to Kylo and taps him on the shoulder.

“ _Sir_?”

“Go away,” Kylo mutters.

“ _But sir—you wanted to be alerted when LSTTH updated_.”

At that, Kylo drops his hands from his face. He shoots Rey a quick, panicked look before turning to face the droid.

Rey raises an eyebrow, not following. “Ben… what is _lista_?”

Kylo closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “LSTTH,” he corrects her.  “Not “ _lista_.” It’s… um. It’s…” He opens his eyes, and Rey doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look so terrified.

The droid can’t see her, of course. He can’t hear her, either. But if he thinks it strange that Kylo is speaking with someone not in the room with them he shows no sign of it. “ _I have not yet read the update, Supreme Leader. But the one reader comment I did see indicated this chapter is_ —” the droid pauses, makes something that looks to Rey like air quotes with its fingers—”’ _a real pantydropper.’ Whatever that means.”_

Kylo makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Rey is more confused than ever.

“ _I just wanted to let you know, Supreme Leader. As you requested_ .” He gives Kylo a polite nod. “ _If there’s nothing else you require_ —”

“That will be all,” Kylo confirms. He looks, sounds, like a man about to face a firing squad. “Thank you.”

The droid walks out of the room quickly, like he can’t get out of the room and away from Kylo fast enough.

It takes a long moment for Rey to finally put her swirling, confusing thoughts into words.

“Kylo…” she begins. Then trails off. “Ben.”

He looks at her. “Yeah?” His voice is so tentative. Shy. It twists something, something painful, deep inside her. But she’ll think about that later.

“What the hell is going on?” she asks.

He looks at her, then down to at his shoes.

“You… deserve an explanation.” He bites his bottom lip. “This concerns you too.”

Rey’s eyes go wide. “How could this possibly concern me? I walked in on you measuring your… your…” Rey can’t finish the sentence. “And your droid, talking about something updating? I don’t—”

Kylo pulls his datapad from a desk drawer and flips it on. “I’ll… well.” He swallows, and then sighs, resigned. “I’ll show you.” His voice is soft. Almost apologetic. “Though Maker only knows how much I wish this weren’t happening.”

He taps a few keys on the keyboard. A page of highly formatted text pops up on the screen.

“ _Like Sands Through the Hourglass._ ” Kylo taps his datapad screen. “Here. Come have a look.”

Rey sits down in the chair beside Kylo and begins to read.

 

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**LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS**

**Rating** : E

 **Author** : TheUltimateGinger

_A/n: I have the best readers in the galaxy. Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has commented on this story and added it to their favorites. I put my heart and soul into every chapter and I can’t tell you how much your love for it means to me._

_I’m super behind on replying to comments but I promise, replies are coming!_

_As always, thank you so much to my beta, NotMitaka. You make this story ten times better than it would have been without your help. NotMitaka has their own story coming out soon called “Daddy Issues.” I’ve already read the first chapter and it is kriffing_ amazing _, you guys. You’re going to love it._

_Finally, mind the tags on this chapter, everyone. We’re going to be all aboard the Supreme Leader pain train for a while. <3 _

 

\-----

**_Chapter 24_ **

_The Supreme Leader woke up, feeling melancholy._

_It had been two weeks since he’d last fucked the Scavenger. Two weeks since she told him she was leaving him and going back to her Resistance scum friends forever._

_“I hate you,” she’d told him. She was naked with her tiddies bare and everything when she said it, and they’d just fucked. Kylo thought it was a good sex, but she said she hadn’t meant any of it. It was a really awful thing to say, and once Rey had left for good it had made the Supreme Leader cry, though he would never admit it to a soul._

_And now, two weeks later, Kylo Ren, the most powerful person in the galaxy_ , _was all_ _alone._

_What’s more: his ten-inch dick was hard again. So hard, in fact, it was almost painful._

_He decided to jerk off in the ‘fresher to see if it might help._

_“Here goes nothing,” he said, wrapping his big hand around his turgid member._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Rey jumps away from the datapad, stunned beyond speech.

“What… _what_ …?”

What did she just _read_?

What... _is_ this?

Kylo’s expression is unreadable when he says: “A story.”

Rey shakes her head. “Okay, but—” She looks at the datapad again and rereads the last sentence.”

_“He decided to jerk off in the ‘fresher…”_

(She is not going to imagine Kylo doing that. She is _not_ . She is absolutely _not_ going to picture him, standing naked and wet under a hot shower spray, with his stupid broad shoulders and his even stupider chest, his large hand wrapped tightly around his—)

“I have no idea who’s writing it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Kylo’s deep voice cuts into the reverie Rey is absolutely _not_ having. “None at all.”

She looks at him. His expression is so guarded—and terrified. “I believe you,” she says. Because she does. He can’t lie to her. He’s never been able to lie to her. “I mean, how _could_ you know? _TheUltimateGinger_ could be anyone.” A pause. “Literally anyone.”

“It could.” Kylo clenches the hand resting on his thigh into a tight fist. Rey looks down at it. She refuses to think back to what it looked like when she showed up here unannounced a few minutes ago, when it was clenched around the base of his—“But I intend to find out. And once I _do_ find out, they will rue the day they were ever born.”

Kylo stands from his chair, and the pillow that had been resting on his lap falls to the floor. Rey’s eyes bulge when she sees that the front of his pants are as badly tented now as they were when she first arrived. Possibly even more so.

 _Ten inches_ , she thinks, before she can stop herself. Her mind flashes back to the scene she walked in on moments ago when their Force bond activated. _I wonder..._

As Rey ponders, Kylo starts pacing the room, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

And as he paces and broods, and in spite of herself, Rey glances back at the datapad and resumes reading.

 

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 _Kylo Ren usually liked to prolong his pleasure as long as possible whenever he did this. But it’s been two weeks since he’s gotten sex. Two long,_ hard _weeks (pun very much intended), during which thoughts of Rey’s small little tiddies tormented him day and night._

 _He needed to come. And he needed to come_ now.

_He was out of patience and restraint._

_He squirted some liquid soap on his palms and rubbed it into a lather under the hot spray of the ‘fresher._

_A moment later he grabbed his giant space cucumber with both of his big hands and began jerking it._

_“Rey,” he moaned, as he worked himself. He imagined it was her kneeling on the shower floor, her hot little mouth sucking him down, taking him down her throat, instead of his own large hands doing all the work. She’d tugged and pulled on him so hard, and so well, when they’d been together, and so it was no work at all to imagine her pointy little tiddie tips pressing hard into his thighs._

_He imagined her swirling her wicked little tongue around him, and then he came, shouting, “come back, Scavenger!”_

_It made a pretty big mess of himself. But it felt good. Coming_ always _felt good._

_But there were tears in his eyes._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Rey looks up from the datapad, feeling lost and confused. Her heart is pounding in her chest like she’s just run a mile, for reasons she doesn’t understand.

She turns her head, and—

—and meets the intense, dark gaze of Kylo Ren, who is standing right beside her.

“I have an idea,” he says. His jaw works, and she watches as his eyes dart back and forth between her face and the datapad on his desk. “But I’ll need your help.”

Rey’s eyes go wide. “My help? I don’t understand.”

“I’m determined to read every part of this… _story_ ,” Kylo begins, placing special emphasis on the final word. He clears his throat. Pauses. Is he blushing? No; that’s impossible. “Because I need to know who wrote it.”

“Why?”

His eyes snap to hers. “Because that’s the only way I can… um. Put a stop to it.” Okay, now he’s _definitely_ blushing. The color begins beneath his collar, and creeps slowly up his cheeks until there’s no denying it.

Is Kylo Ren... embarrassed? Rey never thought she’d live to see the day.

“I guess that makes sense,” she admits.

“It does.” Kylo nods, and puts a hand on her shoulder, a half second before thinking better of it and yanking it back again. His hand is so warm, even from light years away. Rey shivers, for reasons having nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “It’s a very good idea. But…”

He pauses. Bites his lip. Looks at her, uncertain.

“But…?” she prompts.

He lets out a long, shaky breath, and runs a hand through his tousled dark hair. “It’s possible the story is coming from outside the First Order.”

That thought had not occurred to Rey. “Really? Who else could possibly be writing this?”

“Someone looking to sabotage us,” Kylo says. His voice is calm, which stands in odd contrast to the raging erection still tenting the front of his pants. “Someone from the Resistance, maybe.”

“No,” she says. “That’s impossible. We don’t have enough manpower to power our fleet. We certainly don’t have the resources to waste time on something like _this_.”

Kylo dismisses her concerns with a wave of his hand. “Be that as it may, you know the people inside the Resistance better than I do. I’m not asking you to betray your cause, but I…” He looks at his feet. “I think you agree with me that _this”_ —he gestures meaningfully to his datapad—”needs to stop.”

She does. She definitely, definitely does.

“What do you want me to do?”

Kylo licks his lips, and then looks down at his shoes again.

“Read this with me. I’ll give you the passcode and everything else you need to access the page on our intranet. Start reading from the beginning, and then, when our Force bond next activates—”

Suddenly, she sees where he’s going with this.

“We can discuss our… our theories,” she finishes.

“Exactly. _Exactly_ ,” Kylo says, with emphasis. “We will compare notes.”

 _This could work_ , Rey thinks, as Kylo hastily writes down the computer pathways she’ll need to find the story.

 _This could definitely work_ , Rey thinks deliriously, as he gives her a look unlike any he’s given her before. 

 _But_ , she muses, _if this is such a good, logical idea_ …

… why is she suddenly so nervous?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the chapter count where it is right now, but there is a non-zero chance I'll be increasing it again. I'm so sorry.

Armitage Hux gives himself a long, hard look in the small mirror that hangs above his chest of drawers.

He is not an unattractive man. At least, he doesn’t think so. He is pale, to be sure, but he’s always believed his ghostly complexion suits him. Makes him look the part of the fearsome leader he’s always known he was born to play.

He scrutinizes his hairline (it won’t do—won’t do  _ at all _ —to go prematurely bald, even though that has long been his genetic fate). He gives his reflection an exaggerated, wide smile, and studies his teeth a long moment before closing his mouth again and nodding, satisfied. 

Then he closes his eyes, and lets out a long-suffering sigh. His day will be full of briefings and meetings and obligations, and there isn’t a single part of it that will bring him joy. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits to his empty room, his voice just above a whisper. 

Nothing has been going according to plan lately. Not one kriffing  _ thing. _

And there isn’t a soul he can tell about it.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS**

**Rating** : E

**Author** : TheUltimateGinger

_ A/n: You may have noticed that I’ve turned off anonymous commenting. I’ll turn it back on eventually, but I got some  _ seriously _ rude comments on the last chapter from an Anon calling themselves “SupremeLeaderHas8Pack.” I am writing this story for free, you know. If you think I’m not getting some aspect of the Supreme Leader’s characterization right, or that I’m not describing the Scavenger’s features correctly, you are more than welcome to write your own story.  _

_ I’ve always been a huge proponent of “don’t like, don’t read” and “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Because of all of this, I’ll be going on a short hiatus after this chapter. I’ll be back, I promise; I just need a little time away from the datapad to focus on other things. _

_ All the credit goes to NotMitaka for making this chapter into something readable. You are my hero and a real friend. If you’re not reading their new story, “Daddy Issues,” you’ll need to stop sleeping on that because you’re missing out. _

 

_ \-------- _

**_Chapter 28_ **

_ The Scavenger lies down on the bed, her eyes like tepid, dirty pools in a clear blue lake. Now that the Supreme Leader has her back in his bed again there is no way he’s ever letting her go. _

_ He pulls her leggings down with his two giant hands, making her squeal. _

_ “I want you to taste me,” she begs. “I want you to stick your tongue in me and move it around.” _

_ The Supreme Leader makes a disgusted face at her. “Are you joking, Scavenger?” _

_ Because  _ surely _ she can’t mean for him to put his mouth down  _ there.

_ With a loud cry of pleasure, he sticks his Supreme sausage in her instead and fucks her hard. Her love tunnel is wet, and it squeezes him like an Imperial trash compactor as he moves. _

_ They both come really, really fast. It feels amazing. _

_ “Thank you, Supreme Leader,” Rey says, breathless. “It feels amazing.” _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

* * *

 

 

Rey sets down the datapad she borrowed from Poe beside her in her narrow bunk, her breathing coming way too hard and far too fast.

While Rey has never done the overwhelming majority of acts described in this…  _ story _ with Kylo Ren—or with anyone—she is not a complete stranger to physical pleasure. The nights on Jakku were long, and often very lonely. Sometimes, when sleep was elusive, she would rub that secret, sensitive spot between her legs until her back arched off the mattress and her toes curled, a blissful silent cry on her lips.

But this  _ story... _

_ This _ is something else.

Rey has read it straight through from the beginning, just as Kylo asked her to do. She’s kept up with all the updates. And she realized, almost immediately, that the language in it is very crude. Rey doesn’t know much about writing stories, or even much about what makes a story a good one, but somehow she still knows that the person writing this isn’t very good at it. 

Still, though. She knows what it feels like to come. She knows what Kylo’s cock looks like from the brief glimpse she caught of it the last time their bond connected them…

It was… big, when she saw it. Really big.  _ So _ big, in fact, she wonders if it would even feel good if he put it inside her the way whoever’s writing this thing has described. Rey has put her own fingers inside her body before, once or twice. It felt nice enough, even if it didn’t provide the intense bursts of pleasure that touching that one spot does. 

She closes her eyes and wonders whether Kylo would enter her fast or slow, if it would hurt…. or if it would be unlike any pleasure she’d ever known.  

(Should they ever do this, of course. Not that they ever  _ would _ . Not that she would ever even want to.)

Rey idly considers touching herself (she isn’t expected to be at the debriefing for another thirty minutes, after all). She wonders if her own...  _ love tunnel _ , the author had called it... is as wet as the one belonging to the Rey in the story had been. But before she can make up her mind about that, her surroundings dissolve—

—and then suddenly, she is no longer sitting in her bunk on the Resistance base, knees pulled up to her chest. Now, she is in Kylo Ren’s quarters aboard his ship, sitting in the desk chair that’s right next to his.

_ Maker, what timing _ , Rey thinks to herself. She shakes her head in disbelief, her eyes wide. 

But if Kylo is similarly thrown by the sudden activation of their bond he shows no sign of it.

“Oh. Hello,” he says, evenly. He is sitting at his desk too, staring at his datapad which, Rey sees right away, is loaded up with the same Chapter 28 Rey was reading right before their bond flared to life a few moments ago. He doesn’t seem surprised to see her. He doesn’t even turn to  _ look _ at her. Which is all very strange, really, given that when this happens it feels like a shocking dunk in freezing water for both of them, every time. 

Then again, Rey has long since stopped trying to understand anything Kylo Ren does. 

“Um. Hi,” she says back to him. Her breathing is still a bit uneven, still coming too quick, from all those lurid thoughts she was having just a few minutes ago. Kylo must be able to sense how this story has affected her through their connection. She closes her eyes, wills her heart rate to slow and her breathing to return to a more normal rate.

They haven’t seen each other, have had no communication of any kind, since the last time this happened, back when Rey discovered the ridiculous story that has taken up most of her free time in the weeks since.

“Have you figured out who it is?” she asks him. Because she hasn’t. She’s scrutinized every single part of the story for clues (in some cases rereading passages four, even five times; for science, of course). But she is no closer to knowing who’s writing this now than she was at the beginning.

Despite the fact that solving this mystery was the whole reason he’d wanted her to read this story to begin with, Kylo doesn’t answer her question, or even acknowledge that she’s spoken. He’s still staring,  _ glaring, _ at his datapad with more fury in his eyes than she’s seen since that fateful night she gave him his scar.

“Kylo?” she asks, tentatively, after what feels like a very long time.

He shakes his head, indignation written all over his face. 

“This is...  _ garbage _ ,” he hisses angrily through gritted teeth. “This is…” He stands up, shoving away from his chair with such force he knocks it over. The clatter it makes when it hits the floor reverberates through the quiet room. Kylo leaves it where it lies on its side and runs an agitated hand through his hair. “This  _ monstrosity  _ isn’t just inaccurate. It’s… wrong. It’s _ impossible. _ ”

“Impossible?” she asks, confused. The story is badly written, maybe. But...  _ impossible _ ? They  _ are _ a man and a woman, aren’t they? “What do you mean? Are you saying it isn’t…” She swallows. “Are you saying it isn’t physically possible?” 

The acts described in Chapter 28 seem plausible enough to her. Then again, she’s never so much as kissed someone before. Maybe Kylo Ren has more sexual experience than she does. Maybe…

Maybe he knows things she doesn’t.

But Kylo shakes his head. “No. That’s…” His jaw works in frustration. “That’s not what I mean. Read this section, Rey. Read it  _ carefully. _ ” 

He jabs a finger at the monitor, and Rey begins to read.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_ “I want you to taste me,” she begs. “I want you to stick your tongue in me and move it around.” _

_ The Supreme Leader makes a disgusted face at her. “Are you joking, Scavenger?” _

_ Because  _ surely _ she can’t mean for him to taste  _ that.

_ With a loud cry of pleasure, he sticks his Supreme sausage in her instead and fucks her hard. Her love tunnel is wet, and it squeezes him like an Imperial trash compactor as he moves. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Rey turns to Kylo, who’s got his arms folded tightly across his chest. He’s still staring at the story, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What’s the problem?” Because Rey doesn’t have any idea what he’s talking about. What’s impossible about what she just read?

“Don’t you see?” he says. His voice is tight. Anguished. “Don’t you see what they’ve gotten wrong? Isn’t it  _ obvious? _ ”

Rey peers at the words again, considering.

“Well,” she begins, turning the words over in her mind. She tells herself not to think too deeply about the passage, to not  _ picture _ Kylo’s face between her legs, his plush lips on her sex. His cock inside her body. It doesn’t really work. She’s getting hot, flushed, heated, all over again, which is the exact opposite of what needs to happen right now. “I suppose… I suppose my body probably couldn’t squeeze  _ anything _ quite as hard as an Imperial trash compactor.”

Which is true. At least, as far as she knows. 

At her words, Kylo’s eyes nearly pop out of his sockets and his mouth drops open. But he recovers quickly. Sort of, anyway. He manages to school his features into something approximating calm disinterest, but there’s no hiding what his lower extremities think of what she just said. Out of the corner of her eye Rey can see the front of his pants twitch tellingly. 

“Oh,” he says. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I suppose… yes.” He nods. His heated flush matches hers. “I suppose that part was probably… hyperbole.”

Rey nods. “Pretty sure it was.”

“Right. Right.” Kylo closes his eyes, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. “But that wasn’t… that wasn’t what I was… um.” He opens his eyes. Does Rey see terror reflected back at her? What does he have to be afraid of? “That wasn’t what I was talking about. There is… “ He pauses. He runs a hand over his face, and lets out a long, shaky breath.

Rey waits. When he doesn’t continue, she prompts, “What is it?”

He looks at her, eyes blazing. “There is  _ no way _ the Supreme Leader in this story would  _ ever _ turn down the opportunity to…” He looks at his hands. “To... pleasure the scavenger. With his mouth.” 

Suddenly, it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. 

Did she… hear him right? Is he saying what she thinks he’s saying?

She doesn’t have the courage to ask.

“Oh,” she says in a very small voice.

“Right,” he says in return. “In fact…”

He doesn’t continue. The room is quiet and still all around them, the only noise coming from the corner of the room, where Kylo Ren’s serving droid is muttering things like “ _ I don’t kriffing believe this _ ” and “ _ seriously _ ?” under its breath.

When another long moment passes without Kylo saying anything else, Rey prompts, “In fact, what?”

The look Kylo gives her nearly takes her breath away.

“In fact, I’m pretty certain he’d kill just for the chance to try.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the chapter count increase. ;) 
> 
> As for what happens in THIS chapter... I really don't even know what to say.

_ “In fact, I’m pretty certain he’d kill just for the chance to try.” _

Kylo Ren hadn’t meant to admit this. He hadn’t  _ planned _ it. But the words are out now either way, and he can’t take them back. His naked admission hangs heavy in the space between them, echoes and bounces and ricochets off his quarters’ stark white walls.

Rey gapes at him open-mouthed, apparently too stunned for speech. Kylo stares back at her, palms sweating, heart pounding in his chest, as he simultaneously wonders, dazed, just why the  _ hell _ he’d said that—

—and what Rey is thinking now that he has.

Long seconds tick by. Minutes. Possibly hours. Neither of them says anything, neither one of them even  _ moves _ .

Until finally, Kylo decides the blank look she’s giving him and her continued silence must mean she does not feel the same way about… about  _ that  _ as he does. And that he’s just made the biggest mistake of his wretched life.

“Rey,” he says, voice breaking on the single syllable. He tries to think of a way to salvage this, to clarify that all he’d  _ really _ meant to say was that TheUltimateGinger is terrible at consistent intra-story characterization. He’d been talking about the fictional Supreme Leader in the story, of course! Not the real Supreme Leader currently standing in front of her, trying desperately to convince them both that he is not already desperately in love with her.

But before he can get out the words, Rey says: “ _ Ben _ .”

She takes a small step towards him. She reaches out, puts her small, warm, delicate hand on his arm—

—a half-second before their Force bond snaps shut and she is gone again.

This time, Kylo Ren really does throw his datapad across the room and smash its screen.

 

* * *

 

 

The way Kylo sees it, going forward there are only two possible ways this might play out.

He’s walking slowly but purposefully towards the mess hall that serves what passes for meals on this part of the ship. He could, of course, just take his dinner in his quarters as is his usual  _ modus operandi _ . It’s not like he’s actually going to be able to  _ eat  _ anything right now anyway, what with his mind in an utter tangle and his stomach in knots. 

But right now, what he needs more than anything is some fresh air. 

He has to clear his mind enough to start thinking through strategies, and if he stays cooped up in his rooms one minute longer he’ll go mad. 

He strides boldly into the cafeteria, trying to convey both power and a confidence he does not actually feel. It’s the dinner hour, and the room is packed with storm troopers, First Order generals, and everyone in between, sitting together at overcrowded tables with mugs of steaming caf and plates of food between them. Their heads are bowed towards one another as they laugh together and talk about whatever it is people talk about when they are trying to blow off a little steam.

They make him nervous for reasons he can’t really articulate. They always have. Kylo never comes here at all if he can help it, and everyone knows that. A gratifying hush falls over the room when he steps inside, as people look up from their meals and heads turn in his direction.

He sees the worried looks on their faces. Already, Kylo Ren is starting to feel better.

A little better, anyway.

He finds the only unoccupied table—at the very back of the cafeteria, half-hidden behind the rubbish bins—and sits down on its narrow bench. Once he’s sure no one is looking at him anymore he buries his face in his gloved hands.

_ Two possibilities _ , he reminds himself.

Only two.

He’s been over it and over it in his mind, and he is confident there is no room for a possible third.

Possibility number one—the most likely one—is that Rey, wherever she might be right now, is horrified. Horrified by the story TheUltimateGinger is writing, horrified by what he blurted out to her in a moment of weakness—and most of all, horrified at the idea of him putting his mouth anywhere near her most private places. 

With possibility number one, he decides, Rey had been just about to tell him to go fuck a nerfherder when their bond snapped shut.

_ Like Sands Through the Hourglass _ has plagued Kylo Ren’s thoughts and haunted his dreams since the moment he discovered its existence. It has made him confront the uncomfortable truth that he actually  _ wants _ to do most of these things with Rey. Memories of the things he’s read—the descriptions of what the Supreme Leader and the Scavenger are doing to one another; the noises she makes when he fucks her—have caused him to wake up almost unbearably hard every morning for weeks. 

But it would be beyond presumptuous for him to assume that Rey is having the same reaction to it that he is. The only time she has ever confided her feelings in him was months ago, when she truthfully, and memorably, called him a monster. Things have warmed between them since, true. But she has never shown any sign that she would welcome this sort of advance form him.

With possibility number one, the next time their bond re-opens Kylo will either apologize to her for being inappropriate or else try and deflect, and claim he’d been temporarily possessed by mind-eating bacteria. He figures there’s time for deciding which option he’ll take when the time comes.

As unpleasant as that idea is, though, what  _ really _ terrifies him isn’t the thought of Rey rejecting him or laughing in his face. He’s been dealing with rejection all his life. He eats people’s mockery for breakfast.

No; what’s got him  _ literally _ shaking in his boots right now is possibility number two. Which is, specifically: that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Rey wants him to do these things to her, too. 

This terrifies him because if Rey wants to do this with him, clearly she is going to expect someone who knows what he’s doing. Because clearly  _ she _ will know what she’s doing. No one as good and perfect and beautiful as Rey could possibly have spent her whole life alone the way he has.

But the sad truth of the matter is that Kylo Ren wouldn’t know how to pleasure his way out of a paper bag. The closest he’s ever come to kissing a girl was back at the Jedi temple, when he’d tripped over a rock and fallen face first right into Jenak Gosac.

If there is even a  _ chance _ that possibility two is going to happen, Kylo will need to prepare himself. If Rey wants him, he will give himself to her without reservation. And he is going to need to get ready.

But how can he get ready for something like this? Even if he found someone willing to let him practice on them—an unlikely proposition to begin with—the idea of doing it with someone who isn’t Rey is repellant to him. There are droids, of course, and he knows certain people sometimes avail themselves of a droid’s attention out of loneliness or desperation. But even though he has done more despicable things in his lifetime than he can count, he doesn’t think he could bring himself to do  _ that. _

Slowly, as if in a daydream, and completely lost in his own tangled thoughts, Kylo gets up from the table at the back of the cafeteria and makes his way to the front where people get their meals. Distantly, he catches snatches of conversation from a table nearby.

“... can’t do this anymore…”

“... you can. I  _ know _ you can. You just need to…”

“... creative energy drying up. The muse is dying, Mitaka.  _ Dying _ ! I’ll be disappointing everyone if I keep…”

“... Hux, please…”

“... not working anyway, everyone is too distracted to implement the next phase of the plan…”

Kylo glides through the room like an apparition, barely hearing the voices around him, barely even registering the food items on offer in front of him.

Until, that is, he comes to the dessert table.

The chefs recently imported several tons of Chibanga melons from the Outer Rim, prized throughout the galaxy for their firm, yet sweet, pink wet flesh. The table is piled high with them, arranged in orderly rows, carefully halved and seeded with perfectly round centers where diners can dig in with their spoons.—

Or—as is sometimes done on Chibanga, where the melons are grown—with their mouths.

Kylo Ren regards the melon closest to him. Its rind is soft and pink; its scooped out center is large enough to accommodate his entire right fist with room to spare.

He looks at the cut, round hole at the very center of the melon. He thinks. And then he thinks some more.

He knew, from the outset, that comparing…  _ that part _ of a woman’s anatomy to a Sarlacc was almost certainly a gross exaggeration. There’s no way something that… that  _ large _ could ever fit between the legs of a person as delicate and agile as Rey.

But the center of a Chibanga melon…

He can’t prove it—has no first-hand knowledge of what that part of Rey might look like—but his instincts tell him that this, right here, might be exactly what he is looking for. 

He picks up the melon closest to him. He feels the weight and the heft of it in his hands, and twitches once—hard, insistently—in his pants.

_ Yes _ , he thinks, staring hungrily at the pink flesh.  _ This should do. _

And:  _ I must make certain the camera in my quarters is disabled. _

Nodding to himself, Kylo Ren slides the round fruit beneath his cloak and scurries out of the cafeteria before anyone notices he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Kylo makes it back to his quarters his hands are shaking and his cock is so hard it’s actually painful.

He clumsily keys in the passcode to his rooms and throws the door open with so much force it bangs, hard, against the opposite wall.

There was one chapter—only one—in which the Supreme Leader actually did kiss the Scavenger on her sex and make her fall apart with his tongue. He has no idea what he’s doing, and he isn’t completely convinced TheUltimateGinger does either. But he has to start somewhere, and it’ll likely be a better form of instruction than some grainy pornographic holovid.

He grabs his datapad. The screen is cracked from his earlier outburst but he’s relieved to discover that the thing still works. And then he lies down on his bed and unzips his clothing. His aching cock springs free from the confines of his pants, and he sighs in relief. (He tries not to dwell on the fact that it actually  _ isn’t _ ten inches long. Because as ashamed as he is of that fact, there’s nothing to be done for it.)

“Chapter twenty,” Kylo mutters under his breath, scrolling back through earlier parts of the story. He’s ninety-nine percent sure the scene he’s looking for is in chapter twenty. 

When he finds it, he hurriedly grabs the Chibanga melon he ferreted out of the cafeteria and places it next to his pillow. The sweet, juicy flesh of the fruit is even pinker now than it had been under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the cafeteria, and his hand wraps itself around his cock before he even realizes it’s happened.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS**

**Rating** : E

**Author** : TheUltimateGinger

_ a/n: My initial plan was to end this story after thirty-five chapters. But I just can’t seem to stop writing about my babies. Instead of one short epilogue (what I was originally going to do), I now plan to have a seventeen-part epilogue that will come after the final chapter. It will follow our star-crossed lovers as they try and navigate their new lives as an established couple while remaining true to themselves. _

_ Once again, thank you to NotMitaka for all of their help in making this fic exactly what it is. _

_ \--------- _

**_Chapter 20_ **

_ “I missed you so much, Scavenger.” _

_ At his sultry words, Rey climbs up onto the comfortable bed and spreads her legs really wide for the Supreme Leader. The Supreme Leader’s eyes stay trained on her face, rather than on her gaping hole. “I missed you too, Kylo Ren.” _

_ They’re both naked, and the Supreme Leader’s wiener is hard and throbbing. For now, though, he pays that no mind. He buries his face between her legs and puts his lips on the rim of her.  _

_ “Oh, yes,” the Scavenger moans. Her head thrashes around on the pillow. It’s pretty fucking sexy, the noises she makes, and the Supreme Leader wraps his hand around his giant beef baton because he just can’t help himself. “But get your tongue in there, too.” _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Kylo pushes the datapad to the side. He grabs the Chibanga melon and lowers his face to it. 

It glistens pinkly at him. Like it knows, somehow, exactly what he’s about to do.

He swallows.

_ Well _ , he thinks.  _ It’s now or never. _

Tentatively, he touches the tip of his tongue to the edge of the fruit’s cut center. The juicy ripe sweetness of its pink flesh explodes through him like shrapnel, and he has to squeeze his eyes tightly shut just to keep from losing it before he’s even gotten started.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_ The Supreme Leader’s tongue is inside Rey now, and he’s moving it all around. It tastes like something really gross and it’s making a huge mess on his face but the Scavenger is screaming now. Her legs are wound so tight around his head it feels like she’s going to snap his head off his shoulders. _

_ “Do it more, Kylo Ren,” she moans. The thing she has on the edge of her hole is swelling up so much the Supreme Leader is a little frightened. But he loves the way she screams his name so he swirls his tongue around it anyway. “By the Maker, do it more.” _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Kylo leans forward a little more, and, dubiously, swirls his tongue around the inside of the melon. The fruit is juicier here, inside the hole where the seeds used to be, and the cavity is much deeper than it looks from the outside. Before he realizes it, his cheeks are pressed right up against its flesh, and he gets sticky pink Chibanga juice on his forehead and on the tip of his nose. But he’s imagining it’s Rey’s pretty mound pressed up against his face, not this fruit, and tasting it is the only thing in his lifetime that has ever mattered.

He nibbles on the fleshy center of the fruit gently with his teeth. His mouth fills with delicious Chibanga nectar, and he moans.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_ Once the Supreme Leader really gets going on her, it isn’t very long before the scavenger comes. _

_ “KYLO!” she screams, as a jet of wet slime squirts out of her and hits him right on the mouth. _

_ The Supreme Leader tries not to gag. This whole experience is not one he ever wants to repeat again.  _

_ “You’re welcome,” he mutters anyway, trying to remember where his droid keeps the bleach. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Kylo tries hard to keep licking and sucking and nibbling on the melon. He really does. But the story has gotten to him again, just as it always does. The harder and faster he licks, the more he keeps picturing his face between Rey’s beautiful legs instead, and the way she would wrap those legs around his neck as he worked her sex with his lips and tongue. She would cry out as he sucked and lapped at her, and would make the most incredible noises ever heard by anyone in the galaxy as she fell apart.

He’s pumping himself in earnest now, his large hand gripping his cock so tightly it’s almost painful. But he can’t stop. Doesn’t  _ dare _ stop. He drags his lips along the succulent flesh of the fruit, but he’s imagining that it’s  _ Rey’s _ flesh, that it’s  _ her _ juices coating his nose and chin and lips, and  _ Maker _ , he has never wanted anything more. 

He cracks one eye open, and as he feels himself edging closer and closer to the abyss, he reads:

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“ _Fuck me again with your tongue, Kylo. Again,”_ _the Scavenger begs. “Please.”_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

And he’s done for. 

He comes for what feels like hours, his spend spurting out of his cock and into his clenched fist with such intensity he loses all sense of time. All sense of reason. His eyes squeeze shut of their own accord and he has to bury his face in his pillow to muffle his moans.

“Huh,” he mumbles quietly, once he’s finally caught his breath. His face is all sticky now; but he does not care. “I think that went pretty well.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even tell you how much fun I had writing this ridiculous story. I'm more than a little sad it's over now.
> 
> Thank you so much for joining me in this insanity. <3

_Thirty minutes later_

\---------

When their Force bond activates again Kylo doesn’t immediately notice it’s happened.

Usually he’s at least as attuned to their bond as Rey is. This time, though, when the Force reconnects them, Rey finds Kylo lying on his back in his bed, eyes glazed and staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t turn to look at her. In fact, he shows no sign he even knows she’s here. His lips and chin are coated in a strange, pink goo—which, Rey guesses, probably came from the half-eaten melon he’s cradling, almost lovingly, to his chest.

She’s stumbled upon Kylo in some pretty strange situations before, but this…

She notices that the lights in his quarters are dim, and soft music is playing.

Kylo Ren listens to _music_ ? What is going _on_ here?

She takes a tentative step closer to his bed. And then another. It’s isn’t until she’s a foot away from him that she realizes his black leather pants are undone and pulled down over his hips, and his free hand is gently stroking his…

Her eyes go wide.

“ _Kylo_?”

At her voice, Kylo Ren—the Supreme Leader of the galaxy; one of the most Force-sensitive people to ever live—leaps from his bed and to his feet so fast he nearly trips over his shoes.

“Rey,” he says as he recovers his balance, his voice rough and deeper than it usually is. He’s frantically pulling up his pants. Tugging at his zipper. His hair is a disaster, and he runs a hand through it distractedly a half-second before realizing his hand is just as much a sticky pink mess as the lower half of his face is. He quickly yanks his hand from his hair with a loud, frustrated groan.

Then he stares at it, furious. Like his right hand is his mortal enemy. “Fuck. _Fuck_ .” He shoots Rey an absolutely _wretched_ look.

And then, reluctantly, he looks lower, at the crotch of his pants.

He groans again, even louder this time.

Because while he’s decent now, in the sense that his… his _parts_ are all covered up again, there is absolutely no mistaking the absolutely enormous erection he’s got right now beneath his black leather pants.

Rey flushes, her mind rushing back to all those passages in _Sands_ where the Supreme Leader used that part of his body to bring the Scavenger pleasure. How many times has she wondered in the weeks since she started reading what it would feel like to take that part of Kylo Ren inside her?

And, more to the point: how many times has she wondered whether that part of him would even _fit_ ? She’s never been with _any_ man before, let alone with a man with a cock the size of a space cucumber. While she suspects the author took a number of liberties in their descriptions... she’s seen Kylo’s cock before. She’s seeing it now, in fact, his erection straining hard against his pants. A beef baton it might not actually be—but there’s no denying that Kylo Ren is very well-endowed.

Meanwhile, she’s never managed to fit more than two of her own slender fingers inside herself before.

But she’s getting ahead of herself. Before she can think about his cock like _that_ there’s an important conversation they need to have. A conversation she’s _wanted_ to have ever since the last time their Force bond shorted out.

Had he meant what he’d said earlier, about the Supreme Leader wanting to pleasure her with his mouth? Had he been talking about himself, or the Supreme Leader in the story? She could always probe their Force bond to get the answers she’s looking for. But he’s kept a careful distance from her thoughts these past few weeks. She knows she should respect the same boundaries.

She squares her shoulders. Gathers her courage. For his part, Kylo looks about five seconds away from finding the nearest airlock and throwing himself from it.

“Ben,” she says, at the exact moment he says, “ _Rey,”_ in a choked voice.

They pause, staring at each other. Rey takes a deep breath, and tries to will her racing heart to slow.

She opens her mouth to continue, but he beats her to it.

“I’ve rehearsed this,” he mumbles, cryptically.

Rey blinks at him. “What?”

He huffs out a low breath. Reaches up to run his sticky hand through his hair again before thinking better of it and letting it drop back down to his side. “I’ve... practiced. What I was going to say to you, and how I would…”

He trails off, cheeks suddenly so red she can see his blush through the goo covering his face.

“But I can’t do it like this,” he continues, gesturing vaguely to his head. His lips. “Can I just… can I just spend a minute the ‘fresher to get cleaned up?” His eyes plead with her. “I’ll just... please. Don’t go anywhere. Okay?”

He knows as well as she does that their connection does whatever it damn well pleases, whenever it damn well pleases. She has no more control over whether she will still be here in a few minutes than she has over the wind patterns on Jakku.

She nods her agreement all the same.

“Sure,” she says. She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’ll wait.”

Tension seems to leave him at her words. And for the first time in recent memory... he smiles back.

(When he closes the door behind him and she hears the water in the ‘fresher turn on she absolutely, positively, does _not_ imagine what he must look like right now: naked, and wet all over, standing under the hot shower spray.)

 

* * *

 

 

True to his word, Kylo is only gone a few minutes. He comes out of the ‘fresher dressed differently, wearing a black, loose-fitting tunic tied closed with a soft-looking fabric belt. It leaves his legs bare below the knees, and Rey has to force herself not to gape at his muscular legs.

“You stayed,” he says, a little incredulous.  

“I did.” Occasionally, the Force gives them a small break. She smiles again, and she watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

Kylo nods. He clears his throat, and crosses the room until he reaches his bed.

He pauses, and turns to look at her.

On all of Rey’s previous visits here Kylo’s bed has been neatly made, sheets tucked in and corners folded with military precision. Today, though, his bed looks... _used_. Rumpled. Slept in. It’s strangely intimate seeing it like this, even though they’re both fully clothed and standing ten feet apart.  

Kylo watches her silently for a long moment. And then, slowly, he sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I… we…” He shakes his head as he fumbles for the right words. “Can we… talk?” A pause. “Here?”

He pats the spot beside him on the mattress, eyes never leaving her face.

Rey’s heart leaps into her throat at the invitation. But he doesn’t have to ask her twice. She walks across the room and perches on the edge of the bed beside him. Less than an inch of charged space separates them now; his body is closer to her than its been since that night in that hut on Ahch-to.

She can hear Kylo’s breath stutter a little when, feeling bold, she takes one of his hands in hers and twines their fingers together.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asks.

Rey knows, she thinks. She spent all kriffing _day_ going over those final moments before their connection was severed. The way he looked at her when he made his confession has been seared, perhaps permanently, in her mind’s eye. And right now, he’s looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky. Like he can’t quite believe she is real, and that she is here, sitting next to him on his bed, holding his hand.

His jaw works.

“I just wanted to tell you that…” He swallows, and looks down at their joined hands.

He doesn’t continue. But Rey knows now, with certainty, that he’d _meant_ what he’d said to her earlier.

When still he says nothing—just continues to stare at their hands, at the floor—she decides to take the next step herself. Slowly, the way she might approach a frightened habercat back on Jakku, and with the sound of her own heartbeat roaring in her ears, she leans in and presses a whisper-light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Ben,” she whispers against his cheek.

It’s like a switch goes off inside him. All at once, his arms come up around her to pull her close, and then—

And then, his lips are crashing down on hers.

The kiss isn’t like anything Rey thought it would be all the times she’s lain awake in bed, imagining this moment. For one thing, it’s immediately clear that she and TheUltimateGinger had both been wrong: Kylo has no clue what he’s doing. There’s no finesse when he shoves his tongue between her lips, no subtlety in the way he drags his large fingers through her hair. He’s clearly enthusiastic, though. Right now, for her, that more than makes up for his lack of skill.

Besides--it’s not like she has any idea what she’s doing, either.

“Rey,” he breathes. He’s moving quickly as he touches her, runs his large, warm hands over her arms and shoulders. It’s almost _too_ fast, the way he’s moving--like he’s worried that if he slows down or stops for even a second she’ll change her mind. Or disappear. He presses heated, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down the slim column of her throat--and when he bites down, gently, on her collarbone, it pulls a groan from her that surprises them both.

He starts babbling, his voice trembling, nervous.

“Rey.” His breath fans out against her throat, sweet and warm. “Oh, _Maker._ Rey. I want, I want—”

“I want it, too.”

A beat. “Rey. Are you… do you mean… what are you...?”

She tilts her chin a little and kisses him quiet. He _whimpers_ against her lips, the sound of his helplessness at her touch sending a bolt of unexpected pleasure right down her spine.

They kiss for what feels like hours, experimenting, tasting, touching. But just as he’s pulling her down beside him on the bed, the scene she walked in on when their bond activated earlier this evening flashes before her eyes again. She freezes in his arms.

“Actually, wait,” she says, her tone breathier than she’d expected. When he keeps kissing her, pulls her even closer to him on the bed, she puts both palms flat on his chest and pushes a little. “Hold on a second.”

Kylo freezes and pulls back a little. His pupils are blown wide, but behind the desire she sees in his eyes he looks absolutely terrified.

“What... what is it?” He’s breathing hard now, even harder than she is. Through their bond Rey can sense lust—and fear—pouring off him in waves. “Am I doing something wrong? Do you… do you not want to--”

“What were you doing with that melon?”

A long pause.

“What?”

“When I showed up earlier. What were you doing?” She bites her lip. “You were cradling it to your chest. Its juice was all over your face when I got here. And you were stroking your...”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. But she doesn’t have to. At her words, Kylo tears his gaze away from her and looks down at the floor. The big, strong arms that had been wrapped around her body just a second ago drop to the mattress.

“It’s…” He trails off, and sits up again. Glances at her before looking away. “Can we… can we please not talk about it?”

“Why not?”

“Just… just _because_ ,” he sputters. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut and presses his fists into them. “It’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” She cocks her head to the side. “How do you mean?”

When he looks at her again his expression is desperate. “ _Please_ , Rey.” He’s pleading with her now. “Just… drop it. Please.”

As he pleads with her, Rey thinks back to the cucumber she stole from the cafeteria at the Resistance base the other night. She remembers all the things she’d done with it, and all the things she’d _tried_ to do.

Her face is burning again when she says, to the floor: “Okay, Kylo. I will.”

 

* * *

 

Rey isn’t even fully undressed yet before Kylo’s face is pressed between her thighs. She’s struggling to take her top off and she’s still wearing her underwear, but her legs are bare, the lower half of her tunic lying on the floor in a messy pile beside his shirt.

Apparently the sight of her bare legs is enough, all on its own, to spur him into action.

“I want to show you,” he gasps wetly against her skin. He turns his head to the side and presses a hot, needy kiss to her inner thigh that curls her toes. “I want to show you how _wrong_ that story was. About… about so many things.” He’s kissing her hard now, needy and desperate and bruising, like he can’t get enough of her, his lips and tongue proving to her in a way words never could that he wants this. That he wants this more than _anything._ It feels better than anything Rey has ever experienced in her life.

And then—

And then, his nose nudges tentatively at the damp fabric at the apex of her thighs. He takes a long, deep breath, and his eyes shutter closed..

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he groans. He breathes in again, moaning on the exhale. He looks up at her, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. “May I—”

She’s leaning back on her elbows now, watching him hovering over her lower body. He’s so… _beautiful_ , his chest heaving and bare as he works up the nerve to ask for what he wants.

She doesn’t trust her voice right now. She’s too full of emotion, too full of _something_ that she doesn’t have words for. So she nods wordlessly instead.

He laughs a little, dry and nervous. He slips his fingers beneath the elastic band of her underwear and gently slides the fabric down her legs.

When at last she is completely bare before him, his eyes go very, very wide.

He pauses, just... looking at her.

And then, he says, very quietly: “Oh.”

Rey lifts her head off the pillow and cranes her neck so she can see him better. She hadn’t thought to be self-conscious about her body before they’d decided to do this. But his reaction to her sex is not at all what she’d expected. Not after how desperate he’d been to get her into his bed tonight, to take off her clothes.

He sounds, looks…

 _Surprised_ by what he sees.

“What is it?” she asks, her nerves suddenly getting the better of her.

Kylo doesn’t respond. He touches her gently with the tip of his index finger, sliding through the wetness that has pooled between her thighs with an almost reverent grace.

“You’re so… small, Rey.”

He doesn’t sound disappointed, exactly. But it’s clear from the tone of his voice that she isn’t quite what he expected, either.

Fighting back tears, Rey throws an arm over her face. “Is it... am I _too_ small?” She thinks of the ten-inch cock she’s read about all these weeks, and worries, suddenly, that Kylo finds her lacking in some fundamental way.

“Oh,” he says. He sounds dazed. Disoriented. “No. No, not at all. I just thought… I mean. I just _assumed_ …”

He leans forward and licks at the source of her wetness, trailing his tongue through her slick until he reaches the bundle of nerves that brings her the most intense bursts of pleasure. She hisses, toes curled, as he swirls his tongue around and around it experimentally. For a moment Rey forgets how to breathe.

“I just assumed you’d be... bigger,” he murmurs against her opening. He probes it, testing, with the tip of his tongue. Rey makes a sound in the back of her throat that’s barely human.

When she finds her voice again, she says: “Bigger?”

“Yes,” he says. A pause. “Bigger. Or like… you know. I thought maybe there’d be be… um. Tentacles.”

Her eyes go wide. “ _Tentacles_?”

But then his mouth is on her again, her head falls back onto the pillow, and all conversation ends.

Kylo doesn’t know what he’s doing here any more than he did with the kissing. But he’s a quick study, using the little moans and whimpers she makes as he licks her as a guide. And when he finds the right amount of pressure to use to make her body contract and her vision white out, Rey can’t tell which one of them is moaning.

 

* * *

 

 

When she regains her breath, Rey turns to Ben and whispers: “Is there anything else you wanted to try?” She licks her lips nervously, and she can tell she’s blushing again—but she can’t find it in her to be embarrassed about that. Not after what he just did to her. What he just made her feel. “Is there… anything else you think the story got wrong?”

She’s thinking about his cock, of course. She wants to know what it would feel like inside her. She’s dying to know if he’s wondering the same thing. But he’s already one step ahead of her. When she opens her eyes again he’s already kicked off his pants. They’re lying in a pile with the rest of their clothing.

She looks lower, and sees his hand wrapped so tightly around the base of his cock it _has_ to be painful.

“Rey,” he murmurs. His voice is ragged and strained. He pushes her knees apart with one hand and quickly moves between them. “ _Please_.”

He takes his hand off his cock to awkwardly caress her inner thigh—

—and then Rey sees it, for the first time, up close.

It’s even bigger than she’d thought it was, jutting out from his body at an almost comically sharp angle. She studies it a long moment, tries to focus on her breathing and on staying calm.

It doesn’t really work. Because while it might not actually be _ten_ inches long, it has to be at least eight. Maybe even nine.

That is _never_ going to fit inside her.

“Ben,” she gasps. She rears back a little on the bed reflexively. “Kylo. Is that… is that your…cock?” She knows it is, of course. She _knows_ it’s his cock. But it’s _right there_ , no longer a mere abstraction, and the sight of it, the feel of it pressing up against her thigh, hard and insistent, fills her with so much nervous anticipation the nonsense words tumble out of her before she can stop them.

Kylo buries his face in his hands and lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

She swallows. “It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. I just… I just don’t know if—”

“You must be so horribly disappointed.”

Her heart sinks. He’s having the exact same concerns that she is, then.

With a lump in the back of her throat, Rey gets up on her knees and wraps herself around him as best she can. She presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. She smooths back his hair from his forehead. He keeps his face buried in his hands.

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs. “We’ll figure it out.”

“But it’s just… it isn’t what you were expecting.” He looks at her. The torment in his eyes is so palpable it tugs at her heart. “It’s so much… _I’m_ so much smaller than you were expecting, and—”

“Wait. Just… wait a minute,” she says, cutting him off. She blinks at him, trying to process what he’s telling her. What is he _saying_ ? “ _Smaller_?”

He nods. “I’m not… I’m not as big as the story said I was.” He shakes his head. “I... checked. I’m only eight-and-a-half inches.”

At his words, an image of Kylo the way she found him the other day—a ruler in one hand; his giant cock in the other—flashes before her eyes.

Suddenly, everything clicks into place.  

Slowly, gently, Rey puts a reassuring hand on his cheek. She kisses the corner of his mouth.

“We can figure it out together. Okay?”

Rey lies back down on the bed and spreads her legs again. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes rove over her, taking in every inch of her body.

She reaches for him, and takes his eight-and-a-half inch cock in her hand, so big and so thick she can hardly wrap her hand around it. She slowly slides her palm up, and then back down again, marveling at how smooth his skin is here.

Kylo lets out an involuntary whine as a bead of moisture leaks out of his tip. Without missing a beat, Rey gently runs her finger through it before popping it into her mouth.

 _Hm_ , she thinks, licking her lips. _Kind of salty. But not bad._

“Rey,” Kylo groans. He’s watching her suck on her finger with a hungry expression that would make her weak in the knees if she weren’t already lying down.

She settles back down on the pillows.

“I think,” she says, smiling a little, reaching for him. “I think we’ll be able to make this work.”

 

* * *

 

“Like… like this?”

He’s hovering over her, balancing on his forearms to keep her from having to bear most of his weight. The tip of his cock is finally, _finally_ nudging at her entrance but Kylo’s just… _lingering_ there, like he doesn’t quite know what he’s supposed to do next.

Then again, neither does she.

“I… I think so?” The story had been really vague about exactly how this next part was supposed to go. There was always a lot of thrusting and shrieking and thrashing around, but virtually nothing at all about angles, or rhythms or…

Or anything useful.

“I’m just going to…” Kylo pauses, licks his lips. Closes his eyes. His hands are fisting the sheets on either side of her head; when Rey turns to look at his hands she sees his knuckles are white. “I’m just going to… to push in, and—

He does.

At first, the discomfort is overpowering. Rey is full nearly to bursting with him, and she hisses at the pinch and stretch as her body struggles to accommodate the intrusion. When she moves a little, trying desperately to make room for him inside her body, Kylo groans, long and loud, his whole body trembling above her, already on the verge of losing control.

But then, suddenly, everything… softens. Kylo starts to move inside her, in and out, just a little—and the pain mellows and ebbs into something Rey thinks she can tolerate.

By the time their bodies and their minds are both in sync at last, their hips moving in an unexpected, blissful tandem, she wonders if maybe TheUltimateGinger didn’t get a few things right after all.

In the end, she decides she’s glad for the chance to find out.

 

* * *

 

_Two months later_

\----------

General Armitage Hux reads over his final chapter with a critical eye.

This will be his final installment of the story that changed... everything.

It needs to be perfect.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS**

**Rating** : E

 **Author** : TheUltimateGinger

_a/n: It is with tears in my eyes that I write this author’s note. Finally, at long last, we have reached the end. Over 1,230,000 words. Thirty-five chapters and seventeen epilogues._

_I cannot believe this day is finally here._

_I could never have done this without you. Thank you to EVERYONE who has shared this story with friends and comrades, left comments and suggestions and compliments, and created fanart and interpretive dances inspired by these two complete and utter morons. I have treasured each and every one of them, just as I have treasured each and every one of you._

_Many of you have asked what I plan to do next. My next story will not be posted here on the First Order Intranet. Instead, I am looking into self-publishing through Kablam, as that seems a reputable way for new authors to get their words out to a larger audience. I’m working with NotMitaka on some cover art, and… well. Let’s just say I am VERY excited._

_I’d like to leave you with some parting words that I have always found inspirational:_

_“When I find myself in times of trouble / Mother Mary comes to me / And in the end / the love you take / is equal to the love / you make.”_

_The words are not mine, but I couldn’t have said it better myself._

_All my love,_

_T.U.G._

_\---------_

**_Epilogue #17_ **

_A newly redeemed Ben Solo took his big thingy out of his pants and held it in his giant hands._

_“You like this?” He waggled his eyebrows. Then he waggled his cock. “You want this in your butt?”_

_Rey could only moan by way of response._

_“Yes, please,” she groaned. “Yes, Alpha.”_

_He put it in her butt._

_“I want it in there,” he groaned._

_“MORE,” she growled._

_He fucked her tiny little butt all night long. And it was amazing._

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Hux reads the final epilogue again. And then again.

And then, he sighs. Pushes his datapad to the side.

There are still hundreds of reviews in his account that he hasn’t responded to. Some—if recent history is any guide—will be critical. Some will be nitpicks over his descriptions, or certain words he’s used, or any number of other minutiae that seem to obsess a small but vocal minority of his readers.

But most of the comments, he knows from experience, will be positive. Some, in fact, will even be _reverent._ Right this very second he has hundreds of unread messages praising his writing, praising his plot…

… or, simply praising _him._

He still can’t believe he is here.

Because at first, of course, this had been nothing but an elaborate ruse. He and Mitaka had decided the only way to overthrow the Supreme Leader would be to distract him. And what better way to distract him, they’d agreed, than to throw his painfully obvious affection for Rey the Scavenger right in his smug stupid face via a salaciously-written story about her, and him, doing graphically graphic sex stuff to one another?

The plan had been to horrify and distract the Supreme Leader, convince the rest of the First Order to stage a coup while his back was turned…

Which, in turn, would pave the way for General Armitage Hux to fulfill his destiny and, at long last, become the Supreme Leader the galaxy deserved.

To Hux’s great surprise, however, he quickly realized he actually quite enjoyed the writing process. That he _craved_ it, in fact, when long days spent organizing meetings and battles and strategies kept him away from his datapad for too many hours at a time.

He and Mitaka started researching various sex positions on the intranet, one thing led to another—and now here he is, six months later, with adoring fans spanning the galaxy.

The people of the galaxy—people from the core, the Outer Rim; _kriff_ , even from within the Resistance!—they _love_ him for what he’s doing.

They love _him_.

Hux reads over the epilogue again, and then a fourth time, before finally deciding that he’s satisfied with the final product.

He quickly types an intranet message to Mitaka, and attaches the epilogue. The culmination of everything he’s worked so hard for these past six months.

Mitaka’s reply is almost instantaneous:

 

**_WE DID IT!!!_ **

 

Hux reads his friend’s words silently to himself. Then he leans back in his chair, and smiles.

 _Like Sands Through the Hourglass_ might be over. But Armitage Hux knows his story is only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and that's how Hux learned to stop worrying and love his job.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>     
> [tumblr](https://jeenonamit.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Daddy Issues](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649050) by [NotMitaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotMitaka/pseuds/NotMitaka)




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